


Prisoner of War

by WordsAndWishes



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: ACOWAR, AU, Angst, F/M, acomaf, dark!tamlin, kind of intense torture mentions, nobody is happy and i feel bad, rhys is suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAndWishes/pseuds/WordsAndWishes
Summary: There is a woman sitting in the dark. She was free once, named Lady of Starlight and Cursebreaker and Mate. In an attempt to flee back home, she was captured. Her enemies used her and defiled her and dug deep within her for information until some fundamental part of her soul broke. She was no longer of any use to them, so they locked her up as a prisoner for the remaining years of the war. Hope has abandoned her.





	Prisoner of War

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this for Feysand week 2017 but decided to re-upload it here. I made a few changes and it got signifigantly darker.

There are things I remember.

Violet eyes and tattooed shoulders in the darkness.

The face of a wide eyed girl before I stabbed a knife into her heart.

The colors of a star-filled sky.

I remember the names of people, too, though I don’t know the faces behind them. 

Cassian. 

Elain. 

Tamlin. 

Rhysand.

I forgot my own name long ago, sitting in the silence as I am. But I haven’t forgotten the titles they called me.

Cursebreaker.

Defender of the Rainbow.

_Mate._

It’s an absurd thought, that I would be someone’s mate. I belong to the shackles and drug-haze now.

I don’t know how long I’ve been here for. Long enough that I was able to bury pain and longing and fear somewhere deep within me. But one of the things that bothers me most, one thing I could never shake, is the tattoo. Beneath the warped and scarred flesh, it climbs past my fingers up to my elbow. If it signifies some deed, some power, I wouldn’t know. Whatever magic I once had has been taken away by the power-sucking poison in the walls, in the food, and in the chain around my ankle.

Maybe there was no magic. Maybe the magic, the scars, the chains aren't real. Maybe the pain wasn't real.

My stomach growls with hunger, and I force myself up off my cot to sit up, staring at nothing in the dark room. Once a day, some invisible servant comes into this cell and delivers a plate of drugged food. But there has been none for some time now.

Or maybe I have simply always been trapped in the darkness, alone and whatever memories I have are an illusion. The pain, the names, the titles – all of it. The thought sends a slice of pain through me – an emotion I thought I was done feeling when _they_ did those horrible things to me.

Maybe...I am not real.

Suddenly, a bang shatters the unending silence. I stay sitting – what use is there in getting up when I would only be shoved down again? But the sounds keep coming, clatters and shoves and thuds. 

It’s all too much and too loud and I crumple to the floor with my hands over my ears – but then the room floods with light. I dare to crack open an eye.

Standing before me is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. His clothes are dirty and torn and he is bruised and bandaged, but still beautiful. As little as I know, I know this.

Tears flow freely down his cheeks. 

He rushes towards me, pulling me into a tight embrace and I go limp in his arms.

“Feyre.” He whispers, so soft it is barely audible.  
-  
She is laying on the floor, so thin and so pale and part of me wishes I could’ve spent more time carving up the guards who did this to her. Wishing I had been the one to plunge a dagger in Tamlin’s heart.

“Feyre?” I whisper softly, taking a small step forward and then rushing, holding her in an embrace so tight I never want to let go. 

Feyre goes slack in my arms. “Who…who are you?” She asks, voice shaking.

My heart feels like it has shattered and broken into a million pieces as I fall to my knees, one hand still touching her fingers, but forcing myself to remove the one cupped around her calves. She won't want someone she doesn't....doesn't remember touching her.

“Feyre, darling.” I whisper softly, a sob breaking through me. She starts crying too.

“I’m sorry….I don’t remember.”

I look up at her, take her in again and for the first time I notice the healed scars and burns covering her body. The loose tunic and too-large pants cover most of her body and legs, but her arms….her arms have been ravaged. 

Guilt courses through me, twined with raging fury. I should’ve fought harder. I should’ve ended this war two years ago before it had started. I should have saved her before they could do this to her for information, or to hurt me, or whatever other sick reasons they had.

I force myself to shove those thoughts down, trying to use sense. Looking away from her wide eyes, I reach for the smallest dagger I have on me, using it to twist open the lock of the chain around her foot. The faebane in the walls is suffocating enough, and the chain seems to be only an added cruelty to ensure such a mighty being could never break free.

It absolutely destroys me. 

“I'm....I'm a friend. Let me take you home.” I rasp, scooping her up into my arms when she shows no sign of protest.  
-

The cell disappears in a flash of light, and we reappear in a place new and different and somehow familiar to me. It’s full of light and color and more life then I know  
and  
I  
faint.  
-

The next hours are a blur as Mor and Cassian appear the moment we winnow in and Feyre faints.

I numbly answer their questions as they nudge me up the stairs and help me lay my mate down, calling for a healer. At some point I stop responding and just watch her, clutching her hand and hoping to never again let go. My mate, my mate, my mate.

When she first disappeared, it had been a panic. The bond had gone dark for almost six months and we had torn apart the world trying to find her.  
Until one day, as if to taunt me, it opened just a crack – as if the faebane poisoning had been reduced. I saw flashes of faceless guards cloaked in black and scratches appeared on my skin where they scarred her.

We knew it was Tamlin when the faintest of marks appeared on my back, mirroring the much deeper ones on her skin, spelling out a word.

Whore.

After that, the bond was absolutely silent. It was six more months until we had Tamlin cornered – and he gave us Feyre’s location before a timely death. 

Another year of absolute agony and Feyre being moved out of our clutches. Hybern now likely possessed her, but refused to bargain for her. It had driven me completely mad – even now I didn’t think I was sane.

Until today. Hybern fell and his wards around Feyre collapsed as well.

She didn’t seem real – this couldn’t be real. 

Some time passes before Mor brings me a tray of food, entering the room with soundless footsteps. 

“She might recover her memories in time.” My cousin does her best to sound cheerful, but it’s a poor attempt, and I can see she’s just as tired as the rest of us. Those of us who are left, at least.

“What if she doesn’t, Mor?” My hands shake. “You saw what I became. I don’t know what I’ll do without her – if she never recovers at all.”

“She won’t die, Rhysand.” Mor replies – but that’s not what I mean. Feyre has already suffered so much that perhaps she would welcome death.

Mor doesn’t say anything for a moment as she puts a warm hand on my shoulder. “We all need her, Rhysand. But we knew what Hybern did to her would leave its affects – just give her time. She will heal.” Her voice is sympathetic, and I don’t know what else she says as I reach down the bond again, calling out to my mate.

_Feyre._  
_Feyre._  
_Feyre._

Morrigan leaves after a while, and we are alone again. I do the only thing I can think of, the only thing I know to help Feyre. Holding tight to the bond, I send thoughts down it.

The memory of Starfall, when the stars created heavenly paint on her face.

The memory of her laughing with Mor.

Sparring with Cassian and Az, trading bladed quips with Amren.

Talking to Nesta and Elain, remaining kind but unyielding even when they did not do the same to her.

I show her memories of a cabin in the woods, of light in the darkness, of hope. 

_I could’ve lost you, Feyre. I thought I had. I love you so much - so many people do. So please come back to us, darling. Please come back. You are my salvation. I love you._

I hold on tight to the bond, and I do not let go.  
-  
The memories play a beautiful song in my head, one full of light and love and a life that I cannot believe was once mine. But I trust this man, with his shadows and darkness and burdens far too heavy. Something in him calls to me.  
Opening my eyes, I take in my surroundings. There is not quite silence – I can hear sounds of music in the distance. The bed I am lying in is soft, plush, and my dirty clothes have been replaced with a light blue nightgown. My eyes travel down my arm to my tattoo, and to my fingers interlaced with the violet-eyed man who stares as me wordlessly, as though I am his entire world.

Feyre, he had said my name was. 

I meet his eyes, knowing who he must be.

“Rhys.” I say.


End file.
